


Jackson's Heart

by Calacious



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Overprotective Derek, Overprotective Issac, Romance, Smitten Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Isaac's cousin, newly orphaned, comes into town, she captures, not only Jackson's eye, but his heart (yes, he has one).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet Deryk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpaghettiTacos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiTacos/gifts).



> Written at the behest of a friend, and only just recently posted. 
> 
> The grammar is not perfect (I'm okay with that - well, more like I'm trying not to obsess about it. Imperfection is okay, right?). 
> 
> Let me know if you enjoy reading this, because feedback is awesome, and it'd be nice to know if this is liked, at all, by someone, especially since this is M/F romance, which is well out of my comfort zone (it feels weird saying that, but it is the truth). Thanks

Jackson snags an apple from the cafeteria’s a la carte section and takes a bite out of it. He wipes the juice that’s dribbled down his chin with the back of his hand, and ignores the, “Ew, use a napkin or something,” from Erica. His blue eyes grow wide as he spies a slip of a girl with long blonde curls that spill down over her back, and he elbows Isaac in the ribs.

“Ouch, what was that for?” Isaac frowns and rubs his sore side; the look on his face almost makes Jackson feel sorry for using a little more force than was necessary, but he’s kind of mesmerized by the slight beauty that’s walking toward them. The smile on her face is breathtaking – white teeth showing off dimples, and Jackson feels a little lightheaded because it looks like she’s heading right for him.

“Who’s that?” he asks breathlessly, his eyes never leaving the girl’s face. A smattering of dark freckles adorn her nose and cheeks and stand out in stark contrast to her fair complexion.

Isaac shakes his head and grimaces. Jackson’s kind of glad that he did elbow his fellow werewolf a little harder than necessary because the scowl that Isaac’s directing at the blonde beauty is not at all in keeping with what she deserves – something between devotion and worship.

“Oh that?” Isaac’s voice sounds incredulous, and Jackson turns to glare at him.

He doesn’t think he can trust his voice at the moment, because he doesn’t think that Derek would appreciate him growling at school, so he nods. He doesn’t really need the alpha getting on his case and fretting over the possibility of Jackson exposing their secret in the high school cafeteria.

“That’s just Deryk, my cousin,” Isaac says and he shrugs, “she’s visiting for a couple of weeks, wanted to come to school with me and meet some of my friends.” And then turns to talk with Erica, as though he’s not just given Jackson the name of a goddess incarnate.

Jackson can feel his palms grow sweaty and his mouth dry as Deryk approaches the table. A thousand thoughts fly through his mind and he can’t hold onto a single one of them, it’s like trying to catch fireflies by hand.

His legs move of their own accord, his upbringing swinging into action as Deryk nears, and he’s offering to take her tray, laden with what looks like enough food to feed an army. The blush that creeps up her neck is fetching, and Jackson can’t seem to find the right words to say, but his body appears not to need the help of his defunct brain, and he’s ushering Deryk to the table without having to say a single word.

Though he does manage a softly spoken, “You can sit here, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Deryk says almost equally as quietly, and her cheeks turn a pretty pink, but she reaches for her tray and immediately turns her attention toward Isaac, poking him in the ribs, not quite as hard as Jackson had, but he winces in sympathy as it looks like she’s hit the same spot that he did earlier.

“Hey, Isaac,” the change in the tenor of her voice is remarkable, gone is the almost shy voice she’d used with Jackson; it’s replaced by a strident tone which is rich and melodic, and Jackson’s heart skips a beat.

That gets Isaac’s attention immediately and he looks from his cousin to Jackson and narrows his eyes at Jackson. Though the growl is low enough just to stay amongst the few of them who are gathered at the table – Isaac, Scott, Erica, Allison, Boyd, Lydia, and much to his annoyance, Stiles (meddling hyperactive kid wasn’t even a werewolf or a hunter, just a ridiculous human who’d turned down the gift that Jackson had embraced) – it makes the hair on the back of Jackson’s neck stand up, and he takes it for the underlying warning that it is: ‘Mess with Deryk and you mess with me.’

The only problem is that, warning or not, Jackson can’t tear his eyes away from Deryk, and he’s never really been good with backing down from a fight. It’s partly why Derek Hale, alpha of his pack, keeps him on such a short leash. Not that the alpha doesn’t keep all of them on a tight leash, but he seems to keep a special eye on him ever since he’s changed. Like he’s afraid that Jackson’s going to return to a cold-blooded killer.

“I-s-aa-c,” Deryk singsongs, and she jabs him in the ribs, and smiles widely when he finally stops glaring at Jackson and turns his attention to her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Isaac seems to ponder her question while absentmindedly massaging his side.

She rolls her eyes, and Jackson notes that they are an almost emerald green in color. They sparkle like jewels in the too bright light of the cafeteria.

“An introduction?” She looks at her cousin as if to say, duh, and he blushes.

Jackson notes that the pattern of blushing between the cousins is similar and he wonders what other similarities Isaac and Deryk have. He quickly glances at Isaac’s eyes, and they’re just a shade darker than his cousin’s, rimmed with a dark amber color, no doubt something that he’s inherited from the bite.

“To your friends…” Deryk prompts when Isaac just continues to sit there.

He shakes his head and then, much to Jackson’s irritation, begins by introducing her to those located on the opposite end of the table.

“Stiles,” Isaac waits until he’s got the teen’s attention and Stiles is looking at him, “I’d like you to meet my cousin, Deryk. Deryk, Stiles, Stiles, Deryk.”

She smiles warmly at Stiles and Jackson feels a growl rumbling within him when she reaches a hand out to shake with Stiles who has a lopsided smile on his face.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, “isn’t that a boy’s name?”

Deryk loses the smile, and quickly withdraws her hand, which causes Jackson to smile and Stiles’ smile to falter. He quickly sits down and looks at his hand as though it, rather than his mouth, was what had caused the cold reception from the beauty.

“It’s D-E-R-Y-K,” she spells it out, carefully enunciating each letter as though speaking to a kindergarten student, “and it’s a perfectly good name for a girl.”

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbles and he looks away.

Jackson chuckles and merely raises an eyebrow when Scott shoots him a quelling look. Jackson has his elbows resting on the table and his head propped up on one of his hands. He doesn’t even care if the others notice that he’s kind of smitten. By the look that Lydia casts him – a mixture of jealousy and happiness – she notices. The others, besides Isaac, seem completely oblivious to his attraction though.

“And this is Scott,” Isaac continues the introductions. Deryk shakes each person’s hand in turn, giving each of them a radiant smile, as Isaac tells her their names: “Erica, Boyd, Lydia, and,” Isaac pauses when he gets to Jackson, only continuing when he gets another impatient elbow to the ribs, “Jackson,” he growls out, his eyes flashing amber.

When Deryk’s hand touches his, Jackson’s heart picks up its pace and he feels as though an electric pulse travels along his spine. It’s warm and tingly, and Jackson doesn’t really want this feeling to end, but if he holds onto Deryk’s hand any longer he thinks that Isaac might actually come across the table and tackle him.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Deryk says, and her voice is back to that quieter tone, and she’s blushing.

Without any conscious thought, Jackson bends his head over Deryk’s hand and brushes his lips over her knuckles, relishing the shiver that he can feel run through her.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Jackson says, just as equally shyly.

He returns her smile, and even though he can hear Scott and Alison talking in low murmurs about how smitten he is and a whistle that he suspects is from Stiles, he has eyes and ears only for Deryk.

“Hey, you can let go of my cousin’s hand now,” Isaac says, and his voice is low, menacing.

Jackson doesn’t want to let go, though, because Deryk’s hand fits just right in his, and after losing Lydia to Erica, he wasn’t sure that he would ever feel anything like this again. Most people considered him to be a hard-hearted jerk, and not many people, aside from his best friend, Danny, understood that he did have a heart – he was just terrified of getting it broken.

“Oh, stop being so overprotective, Isaac.” Deryk slaps her cousin on the arm the second that Jackson lets go of her hand, and, after sharing a quick wink with Jackson, she resumes her seat. “Jackson seems like a very sweet guy.”

Jackson feels himself sitting up a little straighter, his heart a little fuller, but he nods slightly when Isaac shoots him a look that says, _if-you-screw-this-up-you-know-I’m-going-to-kill-you-and-no-one-not-even-Derek-alpha-Hale-is-going-to-be-able-to-stop-me._ He swallows, and his eyes drop to the tabletop, but then he raises them when Deryk touches his hand and squeezes.

“Want to go to a movie tonight?” Jackson blurts out, well aware that the eyes of the pack are on him, but then so are Deryk’s and she smiles and nods and nothing else matters, because he has a date with Deryk Lahey, the most beautiful girl who has graced Beacon Hills High School’s cafeteria.

Jackson knows that the entire pack will be around, spying on him and Deryk when they go out tonight, but he doesn’t mind, because pack is family, and that’s a good thing. It’s different, awkward even, and he isn’t used to having so many people care about him, but it feels nice for a change, knowing that someone will have his back, even on a date.

Though, where Isaac is concerned, Jackson is pretty certain that Deryk’s his main focus. But, he can’t blame the other werewolf who grew up in a way that Jackson couldn’t even begin to imagine. Though he isn’t happy that he killed so many people when he was a kanima, he’s glad that he killed Isaac’s father, and that Derek made the teen a werewolf, because he’s taken to it like a fish to water. In a word, Jackson admires Isaac, but he also has a thing for Deryk, and he hopes that his friendship with the other teen won’t be compromised as a result.

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” Jackson’s already envisioning what he’ll wear – his letter jacket and jeans don’t seem quite right for Deryk, and even though it’s a movie, he’s planning to wear a blazer and slacks, because Deryk is a girl deserving of more than just the usual.

“Sounds good, um…” Deryk twirls a piece of her hair around an index finger and begins to chew on it. Jackson thinks it’s cute, but he catches her hand with his and pulls it away from her mouth. He encloses her hand in his and squeezes.

“You can pick me up at Derek Hale’s. That’s where Isaac and I are staying,” she shoots a look in Stiles’ direction and narrows her eyes dangerously, “don’t you dare say anything.”

Stiles holds out his hands in a gesture of surrender and pulls a finger across his lips, miming a zipper. Jackson wishes that he’d do that more often, because the boy prattles on annoyingly, and it’s nice to have a quiet Stiles, rather than a rambling one, for a change.

“I’ll be coming along,” Isaac says, but Deryk turns her steely gaze on him and jabs a finger in his chest.

“You most certainly will not.”

“But…”

“I can take care of myself, I’ve been doing so for the past year and a half, and…” Deryk suddenly stops talking and pulls her hand from Jackson’s grasp, and she looks away.

“I know,” Isaac pulls her in for a hug, “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, after…”

Jackson finds himself wanting to know what the two are keeping secret from the rest of them, but he doesn’t pry, not here and now. He feels himself seething when Deryk takes in a shuddering breath and he can see tears pooling in her eyes, making them shine like gems, and, even though he’s no longer a thoughtless killing machine, he wants to kill whoever or whatever has put those tears into her eyes. Some of what he’s thinking must show on his face, because Scott raises an eyebrow in question. Jackson gives a quick shake of the head to let Scott know that he’s okay; he won’t kill anyone, at least not right now.

“Okay,” Isaac says, and Jackson wonders if he missed something in the exchange, but he doesn’t question it, because it means that Isaac’s given his consent for Deryk to go out on a date with him.

“I’ll have her back by ten,” Jackson says, and he likes the pout that Deryk sends him.

 “Shouldn’t there be a shaking of hands or something to seal the deal?” Stiles asks, and Jackson can see Deryk turning to glare at the boy at the same time that he does. 

“Fine, forget I said anything,” he says, looking away and muttering something that Jackson knows he should be hearing, but he can’t for the beating of Deryk’s heart – a soft, rhythmic staccato.


	2. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac doesn't want his cousin hurt.

Deryk can feel Jackson’s eyes on her, and, while she likes that she’s caught his interest, she feels a little self-conscious and wonders if maybe she’s got something stuck in her teeth. She ducks her head and brushes her tongue across her front teeth and sucks, and, once she’s satisfied that Jackson isn’t staring at her because she’d got some beef brisket stuck between her front teeth (it wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened), she raises her head to find that Jackson’s head is now propped up on one of his hands, and he has an almost lazy grin on his face as he regards her.

“So, what class do you have next?” Deryk asks, and immediately regrets asking such a dull question.

What she really wants to ask is what his favorite kind of music is, if he’s got any brothers and sisters, how he feels about the supernatural – an interest of hers lately, if he plays any sports, and other inane things, like: what his favorite color is, if he likes the 49ers or the Bears (the only two sports teams she can think of off-hand)…

“Chemistry,” Jackson says, and he’s still smiling at her, so he can’t have thought her question too lame, right? “Want to tag along?” He shoots a look at Isaac, as though seeking her cousin’s permission and that, for some reason she can’t quite put her finger on, rankles her.

“I’d love to,” she says, spearing a potato wedge with far more force than necessary, sending it careening across the tabletop. Deryk can only watch in mute horror, her eyes widening, as the potato wedge hits Jackson squarely on the chin. It falls onto Jackson’s lap and laughter erupts at the table.

“Score one for Deryk!” Scott shouts and he and Stiles high-five each other, but Alison gives a slight shake of her head, and Scott immediately sobers.

Jackson plucks the potato from his lap and tosses it on the table, and Deryk holds her breath. Her heart’s hammering in her chest, and she can feel everyone’s eyes on her, and she knows that she’s probably tuned beet red. Humiliation doesn’t even begin to describe what she’s feeling, and she just knows that Jackson’s going to tell her to forget all about the proposed movie date.

“Hey.” Jackson’s voice sounds worried, and his hand is on her wrist, pulling her from her nightmare version of what she’s certain is about to happen any second right now, but when she raises her eyes to meet his, she only sees concern. “Are you alright?”

“Y…yeah, I mean, yes, I’m fine,” Deryk manages to say, “sorry.” She glares at the potato wedge, illogically blaming it, rather than her quick temper, for embarrassing her.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” Isaac says, and he nudges her.

Usually, Isaac says or does something that manages to get a smile out of her, but this time, it’s Jackson’s hand on her wrist, gently squeezing, that causes her lips to turn upward.

“I really am sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jackson says, and he lets go of her wrist.

Deryk has to hide her hand beneath the table, because it feels like her wrist is on fire from where Jackson touched it. Her body feels like it’s tingling, and she is helpless to stop the goofy smile from asserting itself on her face, because Jackson’s touch is spreading like a wildfire through her.

How she manages to bring the fork up to her mouth to continue eating after that is a mystery that she doesn’t know if she’ll ever find the answer to, but if she doesn’t eat, it will seriously mess with her metabolism and her blood sugar.

Her hypoglycemia is something that not even Isaac knows about, and she’d kind of like to keep it that way, because she doesn’t want to hear the awkward, ‘sorries,’ or have to answer the multitude of questions such a confession usually engenders. She’s been managing her ‘condition,’ on her own for a number of years now, and, while the way she eats does sometimes cause a lot of questioning and staring and off-handed remarks, she’s used to that as well.

“You always eat so much food?” Jackson asks, gesturing toward the tray, and then he blushes and looks away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I mean are you nervous or uh…” he scratches at the back of his neck, and Deryk finishes chewing a potato wedge that did not, thankfully, decide to go rogue.

“I mean, you don’t look like someone who eats a lot…” Jackson’s face has gone entirely red, and the others are snickering.

Deryk can feel her cousin stiffening next to her, and, though she finds Jackson’s blushing kind of cute, she decides to rescue him before he can dig himself any further into the hole that he’s already firmly in.

“I’m hypoglycemic,” she says, and frowns in surprise at how easy it was for her to say it aloud.

This isn’t something that she tells just anyone, let alone someone she’s known for all of five minutes, but there’s something about Jackson.  No, not just Jackson, it’s Isaac and his close-knit group of friends too, that makes her feel safe, like she can trust them.

“Oh, so you’ve got to, like eat a lot?” Lydia asks, and though the girl sounds like one of those annoying valley girl types, Deryk can hear genuine concern underlying her words, and it warms her heart.

“Yeah, usually I eat small meals throughout the day, but I didn’t really have time to pack my usual assortment of snacks this morning…” Deryk trails off and stabs at a carrot – not one of her favorite veggies, but it seemed to have snuck onto her plate with the potatoes in spite of her best efforts to weed it, and its counterparts out. She plops it into her mouth and chews it as quickly as she can. She tries not to let the disgust show on her face, but she really does not like carrots, especially not limp, lukewarm ones that taste like dirt.

“Sorry about that,” Isaac says.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine,” Deryk says, and she shrugs.

She can sense everyone’s eyes on her again, and she almost wishes that she hadn’t said anything, but at the same time, she feels like a big weight’s been lifted off her chest.

“Yeah, well, I’ll make sure you have enough snacks for as long as you choose to stay,” Isaac says.

“Huh, I kind of have almost the exact opposite problem,” Erica says, and she’s not looking at Deryk, but at a bruised peach that she’s holding, “I eat anything that’s even remotely fattening and it goes straight to my hips.”

Lydia swats the other girl on the arm, and hisses something at her that Deryk can’t quite hear, but whatever it is causes Erica’s eyes to drop to the tabletop, and she murmurs out a hasty apology.

Deryk shrugs. “I’m kind of used to hearing things like that.”

“Well, I think it’s great that you’ve got such a healthy appetite,” Jackson says, and the look in his eyes – a striking electric blue – shows that he means what he’s saying.

Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but just then the school bell rings. Though there is still a good amount of food on her plate, because of the conversation and her unexpected interest in Jackson, Deryk is happy that she has literally been ‘saved by the bell.’ Before she can even pick up her tray, Jackson has it in his hands and is emptying it into the garbage, and then he’s back and helping her up out of her seat, offering her his elbow.

“You really are a gentleman,” Deryk manages to breathe out.

“Jackson? A gentleman?” Stiles asks, and he sounds genuinely amused, but before Deryk can comment, he’s out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the corridor. By the time that Deryk, Jackson and the others enter the hallway, Stiles is long gone, and Deryk wonders where the boy’s off to in such a rush.

“Is he always like that?” she turns to ask Jackson.

Jackson sighs and frowns. “Yeah, he’s actually usually a lot more talkative than he was at lunch today. I wonder if something happened.”

“Maybe he’s just off his game with what happened between him and Hale last night,” Erica says, and then she and Lydia twine their arms around each other’s waists and head in the opposite direction that Deryk, Jackson and Isaac are headed.

Allison and Scott seem to be in their very own universe, which Deryk finds amusing. She covers her mouth when she snorts on her laughter and grimaces because with Jackson acting all gentlemanly toward her, she feels obligated to be somewhat ladylike. Snorting is definitely not ladylike. It is almost the polar opposite of ladylike.

Either Jackson doesn’t notice, or he chooses to ignore the snorting, as they make their way toward his Chemistry class. Deryk watches her cousin carefully because she distinctly recalls him telling her that he had English next, but he is walking with them, and acting like he’s not about to let her out of his sight, even though he should know that she can take care of herself.

“Isaac,” Deryk says when the reach the classroom door, “go to English class. I’ll meet up with you at the front doors when school gets out.”

“I can miss English class,” Isaac mutters.

“For the record, I _can_ take care of myself, you know.”

Deryk meets Isaac’s gaze head on and doesn’t back down, not even when his eyes flash a golden hue. That is yet another mystery that she has so got to get to the bottom of while she’s visiting Beacon Hills, because this isn’t the first time that has happened since she arrived at Derek Hale’s on Saturday; Isaac’s eyes never used to do that when they were kids.


	3. Too Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deryk gets ready for her date. Derek and Isaac are both overprotective.

“Isaac!” Deryk calls out to her cousin.

She’s in the bathroom of the small apartment that he appears to be sharing with Derek Hale, even though he’s supposedly got a foster family. She has yet to see the alleged foster family, and wonders if it’s something that he’s made up just to keep her from asking too many questions.

“What? What is it?”

Much to her surprise, it’s Derek who answers. He careens into the bathroom, grabbing onto the doorframe at the last second so that he comes to a skidding halt, hanging half in and half out of the bathroom door. His eyes are wide and he’s out of breath. He scans the tiny bathroom for signs of danger – or at least that’s what it looks like to Deryk who’s stifling a giggle behind her hand.

When it’s apparent that she isn’t in any immediate danger, Derek looks at her accusingly and pulls himself to his full height. He leans in the doorframe and gives her a look that’s clearly asking her why she’s bothering him.

Deryk gets her giggles under control and then turns, gesturing at two outfits hanging from the rod of the shower curtain, which she vows that she will clean just as soon as she has a free moment, because it is moldy beyond what is healthy. But, she supposes that a teenager and a man who is clearly unattached to any female, wouldn’t even notice how completely disgusting their bathroom is.

“Which outfit should I wear tonight?” she asks.

Derek frowns at her. His brow furrows in confusion, and Deryk wonders if she somehow broke her cousin’s ad hoc guardian, for that’s what she’s certain Derek Hale is, whether either of them admit it to her or not.

“You called me to ask what you should wear?” That’s the most that Deryk’s heard the gruff man say in one sentence. Terse doesn’t even begin to describe Derek Hale.

His eyebrow creeps up to his hairline as he speaks, and Deryk detects a slight growl to the man’s voice. If she hadn’t grown up with three overbearing older brothers, she would be intimidated. Instead she nods and waits expectantly for the man to tell her which of the two outfits she’s chosen for her date with Jackson.

She isn’t sure whether to go with the simple, purple strapless dress which makes her eyes look like they’re a dark shade of jade. The dress comes down to just above her knees, and is a relatively new purchase. She has a lacy, white cape, purple T-strap sandals, and a white clutch to wear with it. Combined, they make for a perfectly balanced outfit.

Or, if she should go with a pair of burgundy, colorblock jeans – the washed-out sides and waistband of the skinny jeans really complemented the top she’d chosen to complete the outfit. It was a sleeveless, frilly black top with ruffles which ran from each shoulder to the hem. She had a pair of black flats to wear with it. They were modest, and one of her favorite pair of shoes. She had a neutrally colored handbag which matched almost any outfit, and could wear her leather jacket with this outfit.

“Yes,” Deryk says.

She reaches for each of the outfits in turn, holding first the purple dress up to her chest.

“This one? It contrasts nicely with my freckles and really brings out my eyes. See?”

He looks a little lost and confused, but Derek nods and scratches at his head. She hangs the dress back up on the shower rod, and then grabs the jeans and shirt and holds the outfit up, pulling the shirt across her torso to show how tightly it will fit, though the frills will make it look a little less figure fitting.

“Or this one? I can wear my leather jacket with it, which is a big plus, and my patent leather shoes, but I want to be a knockout, you know, so that Jackson’s impressed? I mean, I think he’s already impressed, at least I hope he’s impressed, he seemed impressed at school today. Do you think he’s impressed with me?”

Deryk pulls Derek into the bathroom and looks frantically into the man’s eyes, she realizes that she’s practically clawing at his arm, but she can’t help it, because she only has an hour and a half left to get ready in, and Derek is just staring at her. His eyes appear a little glazed, and he shakes his head as though trying to clear it.

“What?”

“Do you think Jackson will like this,” she gestures at the purple dress, “or this better?” she holds out the outfit she’s still holding, and bites her tongue to keep it simple for the man of few words. She wishes that Isaac had come when she called, he’d know what to say, and help her through this crisis.

“Did you drink coffee?” Derek asks.

“Um, okay, so maybe I stopped by the café after school, but that’s not important. This,” Deryk shakes both outfits, “is what’s important now. Jackson’s going to be here any minute.”

“You’re going out with Jackson?”

Deryk’s mouth falls open and she blinks at the man standing in front of her. The expression on his face is hard to read, but his body language shows that he’s closed off – arms crossed tightly over his chest and back rigid, like he’s got a metal pole for a spine. It’s more than a little off-putting, and Deryk thinks that, if her older brothers had been like this every time she’d tried to bring a boy home, she would have become a nun. Intimidating doesn’t even begin to describe Derek Hale right now.

“Y – yes,” she stutters, and she is not a stutterer. “He’s taking me to the movies.”

“Does Isaac know?”

She can’t find her voice, and that is saying something, because, even though she’s shy, Deryk is not easily cowed by anyone. She nods, and then waits, with baited breath, for Derek to say something else.

His lips form an even more severe frown and this deep, rumbling sound, which might resemble a, “Hmm,” but most definitely sounds like a growl, fills the space between them. Deryk can actually feel it in her bones, and she shivers.

“And he’s okay with this?”

The tone of his voice tells Deryk that he’s not okay with it, and she wonders why Derek Hale would be opposed to her going to the movies with Jackson Whittemore. She also wonders why he thinks he has a say in anything that she does. He might be Isaac’s caretaker, but he isn’t hers, and she opens her mouth to say just that, but then Derek reaches for the purple dress and he nods at the outfit she’s clutching to her chest.

“Wear that,” he says, “I’ll be your chaperone tonight. Where are you going?”

Deryk frowns and squares her shoulders. “I won’t be requiring a chaperone tonight.”

“It’s non-negotiable,” Derek says, and then he walks out of the bathroom and slams the door shut behind him.

Deryk stares dumbly at the closed door for several minutes after Derek has left. She’s not quite sure what just happened, but she is determined that she will be going on her date with Jackson, sans chaperone.

Derek Hale is one of the mysteries that Deryk would like to get to the bottom of, particularly if the man really is taking care of her cousin. She still can’t wrap her mind around the death of her uncle, not that she liked the man very much – he was a jackass and didn’t treat Isaac or his mother very well.

He met with such a violent death though, and she wonders if whatever animal had torn her uncle apart is still roaming Beacon Hills, and if that’s why Derek is insisting on accompanying her on her date with Jackson. If that’s the case, then she wonders if any of them are really safe from this beast. She’d read about the attack in the papers, and had been horrified.

She does have a canister of Mace which she carries on her person at all times. Not that Mace will have much of an effect on a wild, man-killing beast. She’d started carrying Mace after one of her best friends had been attacked by a stranger while on her way from home.

It was awful, and Deryk had comforted Julia as best she could, but her friend just wasn’t the same afterwards, and they’d both become hyper vigilant. Both had joined a self-defense course offered at the community center and both had started carrying Mace; Julia also carried pepper spray.

Deryk shuddered just thinking about what the elder Lahey must’ve gone through as he was torn apart by some monster, and she hopes that she won’t come into contact with such a beast while she’s in Beacon Hills.

She had never heard of such an attack before. Nothing like that happened in LA – sure there were stabbings, and rapes and there was gang warfare, but animal attacks, those were different, and for some reason, Deryk found the thought of them terrifying.

She didn’t doubt that Isaac, and Derek Hale would keep her as reasonably safe as possible while she stayed with them, but she wondered how useful they’d be if she, or they, were to be attacked by some ungainly beast. Maybe having Derek come along for her date, as awkward as that will inevitably be, wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Deryk studies herself in the mirror. She hopes that her minimalistic approach to makeup won’t be a problem. The earth tones she’s used for her eyes looks natural, and pulls out the flecks of silver in her eyes. Not many people notice them, and she feels silly wanting Jackson to see them, but it would be nice if he did.

Jackson seems like such a sweet boy, and he’s so much like the southern gentlemen she’s read about in those cheap romance novels that she’d practically devoured when she was younger. Secretly, she’s always wanted to have a Southern gentleman caller.

Some would argue that, at seventeen, she’s still young, but she’d beg to differ with them. She might be only seventeen, but she’s an old soul. Losing your entire family to a house fire caused by faulty electric wiring had a way of growing you up, though.

She’s fighting the state, which wants to put her into a foster home. She’s trying to obtain her freedom, to stay out of the system that she’s seen damage so many of her friends.

Becoming an emancipated youth will have nearly as many drawbacks, as it will benefits, but Deryk has always been mature for her age. She’s had a job since she was fifteen, and, after the fire, her boss had offered her health, and vacation benefits, even though she works only part-time. She’s maintaining straight A’s while working, and the state lawyer says she has a really good chance of winning.


	4. Getting Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Deryk continues to get ready for her date, she encounters some difficulties, namely, Derek Hale and Isaac. She has an idea of how to overcome these obstacles.

Deryk glances at herself in the mirror and frowns, because this outfit isn’t right, and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let Derek Hale boss her around like he’s her father or her brother or whatever it is that the man’s trying to be in her life. Sticking her head out of the bathroom door, she looks up and down the hallway, and lets out a breath when she doesn’t see the intimidating man anywhere. She quickly rushes to the bedroom Isaac had generously allowed her to use during her visit, and, after making sure that Derek isn’t anywhere in sight, she shuts the door, and turns toward the bed where she has several outfits laid out.

“Perfect,” she says, snatching up her floral print sundress.

She quickly discards the jeans for a pair of opaque tights, and her frilly black top for the dress. She shucks the black shoes, and pulls on her charcoal grey Chucks, because Chucks are really more her style, and they are, quite simply, the best shoes in the entire world. And, okay, so maybe Derek had a point about her and coffee when he’d gone all bossy on her earlier. She really shouldn’t have had that cup of coffee after spending the day with Isaac and his friends at school.

Deryk double-checks her makeup in the mirror over the dresser, which has clearly seen better days. Satisfied that there aren’t any smudges where there shouldn’t be, she smiles at her reflection. Her lashes look thick and black and perfect, her cheekbones high and pink, and the majority of her freckles are masked by her cover-up.

She sprays a little lavender water on her face, to help set her makeup, and then rubs a dab of lavender oil behind her ears. The scent isn’t overpowering, it’s light and should be soothing, and it should help to ease some of the tension which is inevitable on a first date.

‘Now to get rid of Derek, busybody, Hale,’ she thinks.

Deryk raises an eyebrow at her reflection and narrows her eyes. A glance at the clock on the wall reveals that she has a little less than ten minutes left before Jackson’s due to arrive. Her lips twist upward in what many would consider a smirk if they didn’t know Deryk well. It is in fact a devious grin, because, reflected in the mirror is a window. There aren’t bars on it, and it’s already partially open.

There’s a gentle breeze coming in from the window, tugging at her curls, and, if she remembers the layout of the apartment correctly, there’s a tree just outside the window that should not be too difficult to climb down. She turns from her reflection and goes to the window, opening it the rest of the way. It is more than wide enough to accommodate her slight frame, but the breeze coming through it chills her.

She quickly grabs the leather jacket that’s hanging on the doorknob and places her ear to the door and listens. At first her heart is beating too loudly for her to hear anything else, and she has to use some of the breathing techniques that her therapist taught her to get her heartbeat and breathing under control. It has been so long since she’s had to sneak out to go on a date, that her adrenaline is rushing and her palms are sweaty, and she just knows that the grin on her face is now approaching full out, ‘evil teenage intentions,’ right now, but she doesn’t care.

It’s been far too long since Deryk Lahey has been a reckless, wild teenager, and she’s going to enjoy every damn minute of it. Once her heartbeat and breathing are under control, she listens at the door, tuning out irrelevant sounds – the droning of the downstairs neighbor’s TV, a baby crying two apartments over, the annoying sound of someone’s car alarm going off – and focuses solely on what is important – the proximity of Derek Hale’s footsteps in the hallway. She can hear them – a light tread for someone who appears to be all hard, well-toned muscle – coming toward her door and she holds her breath, but then they move away at an even brisker pace than they’d approached and she makes a mad dash to the window.

With a single glance backward, just to make sure that Derek hasn’t somehow snuck silently into the room and is about to catch her in the act of sneaking out, Deryk carefully reaches out toward the thick limb of the tree, which is relatively close to the window. She prays that her tights won’t catch on the bark and run, because they, like the shoes and leather jacket that she’s wearing, are her favorite, and she really can’t afford to replace them right now.

Once she’s swung herself out onto the branch, she carefully makes her way down the tree, and drops down the last few feet. She stumbles a little, but manages to remain upright and then straightens her dress and her hair. After a quick inspection assures her that she hasn’t snagged anything on the bark or branches of the tree, she runs to the entrance of the apartment building’s parking lot, hoping to catch Jackson before he pulls into it.

She allows herself a small, self-satisfied smile when she checks the time on her cellphone. She still has five minutes left before Jackson is due to pick her up, and something about him tells her that he will be punctual. The five minutes will give her plenty of time to get her breathing under control so that Jackson won’t suspect that she’s been running.

‘Take that, Derek Hale,’ Deryk thinks, ‘you give me chaperone, I raise you teenage rebellion.’

As she waits, Deryk twists the simple silver band that is always present on her middle finger, and her heart twinges with just a modicum of guilt as it reminds her of her parents. She bites her bottom lip and whispers, “Sorry, Mom, Dad. I think that, were you still here, you would’ve approved of Jackson. And, don’t worry; I’ll make it up to Mr. Hale.”

Warmth, which belies the cool night air, washes over her and Deryk breathes deeply, letting the love she can feel from her parents engulf her. It feels a little like a hug, and it momentarily steals her breath away, but when the sensation is gone, and she can breathe freely again, she can still feel her parents’ presence and she laughs, shaking her head, because, in managing to slip past Derek Hale’s overbearing protectiveness, she’s run smack dab into her parents’ version of the same thing.

If anyone were to ask her to explain it, Deryk wouldn’t have the words. Her parents aren’t ghosts, and the ring isn’t a talisman, giving her magical powers, or maybe it is. Her Aunt Beth had intimated that it did, and that Deryk had the power to control the elements. All she knows is that, when she touches her ring, and thinks about her parents, it’s like they are there. Not in bodily form, but in spirit.

It isn’t scary. It’s comforting. Though, right now, she wishes that she could find a way to ‘sneak away’ from them so that she can be alone with Jackson on their date.


	5. Almost There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when things start to get good...a wrench is thrown into the plot.

When Deryk spies Jackson’s car, she steps off the curb and waves at him, hoping that he won’t think she’s some crazy person and drive past. She lets out a relieved breath when he slows to a stop right beside her. She’s certain that the smile on her face makes her look like a crazy person even so, but she can’t really turn it off when she gets a glimpse of her date.

Jackson is wearing his letter jacket, jeans and a tee-shirt. He looks a little like James Dean – hair kicked up in the front, a smile just this side of dangerous – and it makes Deryk’s heart flutter and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“You look beautiful,” Jackson says, and, before he even puts the car in gear, he leans over and kisses her on the cheek.

Deryk can tell that she’s blushing, her cheeks are warm and she can’t stop smiling.

“Thank you. You look very handsome.”

Deryk isn’t sure why she’s speaking so formally, but being in Jackson’s presence just seems to bring that out in her. Or, at least so far it has. Maybe once she’s spent more time with him, that’ll fade. Secretly, though, she hopes that it won’t. She kind of likes being treated like she’s a princess, or the belle of the ball, and playing the part.

“What movie would you like to see?” Jackson asks as he pulls away from the curb.

Deryk can still feel Jackson’s lips on her cheek – like a ghostly remnant – as she ponders his question. She honestly doesn’t even know what’s showing at Beacon Hills’ theatre, and isn’t sure whether to voice that or not.

“ _Skyfall,_ _Wreck-It Ralph, Flight, Lincoln, Argo, Pitch Perfect, The Man with the Iron Fists_ ,” Jackson rattles off the titles, and then mumbles, “and _Breaking Dawn_ are playing at the multiplex. It’s outside of Beacon Hills, I hope that’s okay.” He glances sidelong at her, and it’s cute how nervous he looks.

Deryk wants to see _Pitch Perfect,_ has been pretty much dying to see it since she’d seen that it had come out. She chews on her thumbnail as she thinks about what to do. She doesn’t really like James Bond movies, but Jackson probably does.

He probably wouldn’t like something for kids, like _Wreck-It Ralph_ , and, honestly, she doesn’t really want to watch that either –not with Jackson anyway. Maybe she can go to that movie with Isaac, because she’d kind of like to do something with him where they can just both be kids again, rather than orphans who are expected to rise to the challenge of life without parents.

 _Argo_ is just too intense for a first date, at least the trailers make it seem that way. Deryk isn’t sure that she wants to watch something so emotional. _The Man with the Iron Fists_ just seems way too violent, and Deryk’s not sure she can handle something like that right now.

“Is _Pitch Perfect_ okay?” Deryk asks, maybe just a little too enthusiastically.

Jackson nods, and if it isn’t something that he didn’t want to see, he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s just relieved that she didn’t ask him to watch _Breaking Dawn._

“Did you already have dinner?” Jackson asks. “Because, if you haven’t there’s this nice little place, close to the theatre, or, if you’ve already eaten, we could just get popcorn and snacks and we can go to dinner another night.”

“I haven’t had dinner yet,” Deryk says before Jackson can add anything else. She decides that he’s kind of cute when he’s rambling, and the way he blushes adds to his charm.

 “That’s good,” Jackson says, and then he smiles, a slow upward turning of the lips that makes Deryk’s heart race a little quicker.

Dinner is a simple, yet elegant affair. It’s clear to Deryk that Jackson’s used to fine dining. She feels a little out of her element, but, at the same time, it’s nice to be treated like a princess.

It’s as they’re starting on dessert that Deryk first notices that something’s off, and she can’t quite place her finger on what it is, but she can sense eyes on her. She looks around the cozy, five-star restaurant, and frowns when she can’t immediately find the owner of the eyes that are staring at her.

“What’s wrong?” Jackson asks when Deryk shivers and turns in her seat to try to find the person or persons boring holes into the back of her head.

Deryk shakes her head. “Nothing, I just, I thought I felt someone watching me.”

Jackson narrows his eyes, looks past her shoulder and then he grits his teeth. He takes a deep breath and then smiles at her as though there’s nothing to worry about, that he didn’t just react to something she can’t see, but he obviously can.

“It’s nothing to worry about. I think that the couple at the table behind us is a little jealous of you,” Jackson says. His eyes are twinkling, and there’s a smile on his face, but Deryk doesn’t believe him.

She trusts her intuition, knows that Jackson is lying to her, and that whoever is watching her, or maybe them, is not simply jealous of her or of the two of them. She crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow.

“Wanna try that again?”

Jackson’s mouth drops, but he snaps his mouth shut and leans back in his seat. “What?” he says, his smile widening to something bordering on gorgeous and dangerous.

“You’re gorgeous, and there are several pairs of eyes on you right now. Some of them are thinking: ‘What is she doing with a schmuck like that? Why isn’t she with me?’ Others are thinking: ‘Hot damn, that’s one hot number, how did _he_ land her?’” Jackson leans forward and snags one of Deryk’s hands, pulling it to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

“You are beautiful, what’s not to look at?”

Deryk blinks, Jackson’s eyes, his lips, his mouth, are barely an inch from hers. This close, she can smell his aftershave – something earthy, like pinecones, but not too strong – and minty toothpaste. His skin is flawless, creamy white, and his lips, his lips are…

Deryk’s breath hitches in her throat. She hadn’t realized that she’d closed the inconsiderable gap between them, initiating their first official kiss until her lips meet with the warmth of Jackson’s and then she’s tasting him – the tang of the orange glazed duck he’d had for dinner, paired with the sweet , syrupy taste of the soda he’d had is intoxicating.

A soft moan escapes the both of them, and then Jackson’s lips are pulled away abruptly and Deryk opens her eyes to find Derek Hale holding Jackson by the scruff of his jacket, and Isaac watching by the sidelines. The look in Derek’s eyes is scary, and it isn’t even directed at her, but Deryk finds herself shivering anyway.

“Derek,” she says in a cool tone of voice when she can find her voice and her heart stops beating a mile a minute. “Please unhand Jackson, and stop interrupting our date.”

Derek turns his steely gaze toward her, and Deryk thinks she sees a hint of black in his eyes, but it passes quickly, and she blinks. Derek’s nostrils flare, but he does release Jackson who rubs at the back of his neck. Jackson won’t meet her gaze, and that only serves to make Deryk angrier at Derek and Isaac.

“I thought I told you that I’d be chaperoning your date,” Derek says

“And, I thought I had made it clear that I didn’t need a chaperon. I’m a big girl Derek; I’ve been handling a lot more than just a date on my own. You have no right…”

“I have every right,” Derek interrupts, his chest heaving. “I’m responsible for you, for Isaac, for…” he trails off, but glances at Jackson with a look that isn’t exactly hatred, but is pretty close to it.

“Deryk,” Isaac interjects quietly, “you really shouldn’t have snuck out like that.” He squeezes her shoulder, and Deryk reaches up to squeeze his hand in return. “You kind of scared me, us.” He glances in Derek’s direction, but the man is still glaring daggers at Jackson, as if this is somehow his fault.

“I’m sorry,” Deryk says, “it’s just, you can’t expect me to go around town with a chaperone. I’ve been on my own now for…”

“But you’re not alone,” Isaac says, “not anymore. You’ve got me, and, and you’ve got Derek.” He ducks his head.

“Right now what I’ve got are two annoying date crashers who seriously need to get lives of their own.” Deryk slumps against the back of her chair. She runs a hand through her hair and blows at a particularly stubborn lock that keeps falling across her eyes.

“Look, as sweet as this is, I don’t need a babysitter. Derek, take Isaac home and let Jackson and I continue with our date. That is, if he still wants to date me after this.” She gives him a hopeful look and is relieved when Jackson smiles in spite of the grip that Derek has on his shoulder.

“This is non-negotiable,” Derek says, and he gives her the briefest of smiles. Deryk notes that it doesn’t really reach his eyes. “If you try to ditch me and Isaac again…”

“What? You’ll ambush us? Embarrass in a fancy restaurant?”

He blinks and Deryk finds herself smirking at his loss of words.

“I’d hate to break it to you, Derek Hale, but you’ve kind of already done that, and I’ve got to say that I am not impressed with this whole overprotective side to you. Isaac, does he do this kind of thing to you too? Does he let you go on your dates in peace, or does he insist on tagging along too?” Deryk feels bad for putting her cousin in the spotlight, especially when he seems to fold in on himself, but she’s hurt and angry, and just wants to get back to her date with Mr. Dreamy.

Isaac shakes his head and mumbles something that sounds like, “Haven’t gone on a date yet. Still trying to work up the nerve to ask him,” but Deryk can’t be sure.

In any case, she vows that she will get to the bottom of that just as soon as she’s finished her date and can corner her cousin on his own, without the brooding Mr. Hale lingering nearby.


	6. Foiled Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to kiss with a werewolf breathing down your neck.

Deryk can’t seem to stop smiling whenever she glances at Jackson. Instead of watching the movie, he’s watching her, and it’s rather endearing. She’s never experienced anything quite like this before, and, with a guilty thrill, she realizes that she could get used to it.

When Jackson reaches into their large container of popcorn, Deryk casually slips her own hand into the bowl, making sure that their hands meet within the buttery kernels. There’s a spark, and Deryk sighs when Jackson quickly pulls his hand out as though he’s almost afraid to touch her.

Deryk turns around in her seat and sticks her tongue out at the man responsible for Jackson’s sudden case of nerves. Derek Hale and Issac are sitting four rows back, and, though her cousin appears to be watching the movie, and enjoying it, Deryk can see that his overbearing guardian is not. Burly arms crossed over his chest, he’s glaring daggers into the back of Jackson’s skull. He merely raises an eyebrow when Deryk sticks her tongue out at him.

She turns away from the spying duo in a huff, and takes matters into her own, more than capable hands. Faking a yawn, Deryk reaches her arm around Jackson’s shoulders and leans against him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

Jackson stiffens, but Deryk refuses to allow that to dissuade her. She wants a bona fide date, complete with making out at the movie theatre, and nothing – not even the brooding Derek Hale – is going to stop her. Eyes narrowed in determination, Deryk places her other hand on Jackson’s thigh, and trails her fingers along the seam of his jeans. She smiles when Jackson gulps and shifts in his seat.

Deryk blows softly against the shell of Jackson’s ear and smiles when he shivers. His breath hitches, and when he turns toward her, mouth opened, no doubt to hiss out a warning to her, Deryk kisses him. It’s different than the kiss that they shared at dinner – a little headier and much more passionate.

Whatever Jackson was going to say is lost. When they pull away to breathe, Jackson’s eyes are sparkling with something that Deryk thinks might be love, and that startles her a little, because she’s not sure if she’s ready for something like that.

When Deryk pulls Jackson in for another kiss, he whispers, “Derek Hale and Isaac are watching us.”

Deryk giggles. “I know. Let’s give them something to watch.”

Jackson smiles almost wolfishly. Eyes sparkling, he lowers his lips to hers, and then slowly, methodically devours – there’s no other word for it – her lips. When the kiss ends, an eternity later, Deryk’s lips feel like they’re on fire, and her heart is racing.

She can feel herself blushing – heat rising to her cheeks. She can’t help it. Being fair skinned, she’s prone to blushing, and almost any emotion can spark the rush of blood to her cheeks.

“You’re beautiful,” Jackson whispers.

“So are you,” Deryk says, breathlessly. When what she’s said dawns on her, she blushes even more and lowers her gaze.

Jackson lifts her chin, and cups her cheek with his hand. He rubs his thumb over her lower lip, and Deryk can feel the tingle from his touch all the way down to her toes. She draws in a sharp, almost painful breath when she realizes, with a start, that maybe she loves Jackson too.

“You’re my heart,” Jackson whispers, and Deryk frowns in confusion, even as her own heart soars at his words.

She searches his eyes for the lie that she half fears she’ll see reflected in them. When she doesn’t see any falsehood, Deryk allows herself to believe that Jackson really means what he’s said. She smiles, and kisses the corner of his mouth, delighting in the way that it makes his eyes grow dark.

 _Take that, overprotective, overbearing, dictator Derek Hale,_ Deryk thinks, and she casts a quick look over Jackson’s shoulder.

Derek is glowering, and looks ready to leap over all of the seats separating him from the two teens. It appears that the only thing holding him back is Isaac’s hand on his arm, and Deryk wonders what changed her cousin’s mind.

“They still watching us?” Jackson’s whisper gives Deryk goose bumps and she nods.

He grins mischievously and starts nibbling on her earlobe. It takes her breath away when Jackson’s lips trail a path along the curvature of her neck, and then linger on the upper cusp of her breast. His breath is hot and moist on her skin, and yet she’s shivering.

Swallowing hard, Deryk bites her bottom lip, and closes her eyes in an effort to memorize all of the sensations which accompany Jackson’s touch. Arousal isn’t nearly strong enough a word for what she’s feeling right now, and Deryk finds herself lost in the moment – the feel of Jackson’s tongue; the roughness of his fingers reaching up beneath her clothing to touch and pinch and provoke; the feel of his breath, warm against her throat…

The loss of the sensations comes abruptly and in the midst of angry snarls and red eyes, making Deryk both frightened and angry when she realizes that Derek has, once again, pulled Jackson from her. Before she can protest, Deryk’s pulled from the theatre by Isaac who, at least has the common decency not to look her in the eye.

Deryk is seething, and she whirls on Derek Hale. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Was I not clear back at the restaurant? Or are you as thick as your muscles?” Deryk advances on Isaac’s guardian with each word that she speaks with her hand pulled back and ready to strike.

She tosses her hair back and jabs a finger in Derek’s chest to make her point. “You are not my guardian, and you have no right to bust in on me and my date. Leave. Now.”

“Deryk,” Isaac’s voice has a touch of an almost animalistic whine to it. His head is tilted to the side, and though he’s speaking to her, his eyes are on Derek Hale, as though seeking his approval and it makes Deryk sick to see her cousin kowtowing to the rude man. Guardian or not, Derek Hale should not behave like some senseless troglodyte. Deryk has half a mind to tell him just that, but then Isaac turns his eyes on her, and she loses some of her steam.

“What?” she asks, keeping the heat from her voice.

“There’re things you don’t understand,” Isaac says, his voice just above a whisper.

Deryk fists a hand on her hip and raises an eyebrow. Jackson is standing beside Derek Hale, his head hung low. She’s had enough of Hale manhandling Jackson, and in a way, her, and doesn’t like that Isaac is making up excuses for Derek’s behavior.

“Explain,” she says.

“Not here,” Derek growls, there’s no other word for it.

“Fine, but, once we get back to your apartment, which, Jackson will drive me to, alone,” she adds when Isaac opens his mouth, no doubt to make an offer to join them in Jackson’s car, “you are explaining this to me. All of it.”

She glowers at Isaac and Derek in turn, and then, flicking her hair over her shoulder, she walks away, shaking from the adrenaline of the public confrontation. It’s only afterwards that Deryk realizes the small crowd that’s gathered to watch, and listen discreetly.

The feel of a hand on her back offers her reassurance and she leans against Jackson. The ride to the apartment is quiet and tense, and Deryk can tell, by the way he clutches her hand, and the covert looks he shoots her in the rearview mirror, that he’s nervous about something.


	7. Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She believes in magic, in werewolves though? Not so much.

Deryk blinks. She’s sitting on the couch, really a small divan, in what passes for a living room in Derek and Isaac’s apartment, and is finding it difficult to process what she’s just heard.

Magic, she believes in, but werewolves? Honest-to-goodness, living, breathing, howling-at-the-moon, werewolves? That’s a little much for anyone, even someone as open-minded as she is – to believe.

The fact that both Isaac, and Jackson, are shooting a wolf-version of worried, puppy-dog eyes at her, is not helping matters at all. Nor is the unsettling, hard look on Derek Hale’s face. It’s clear to her that the big, bad wolf didn’t want to share the ‘family’ secret with her, and, honestly, she can’t really blame him.

“That…” Deryk pauses and gathers her wits, “that’s a lot to take in.”

“You don’t believe us,” Derek says with an angry snort. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he shakes his head. “Fine, I’m just an overbearing, overprotective asshole who gets no bigger pleasure out of life than bossing others around and breaking up dates.” He leans against the wall and gives Deryk a challenging look.

Deryk narrows her eyes and fists her hands in her lap. It’s impossible, the thing of horror-filled fairytales, and yet…Deryk realizes that it has to be true when she looks from Isaac – head hanging dejectedly – to Jackson – hands shoved deeply into his pockets, his eyes pleading with her not only to believe, but not to hate him – and Derek Hale, himself – king amongst the wolves, a small smirk on his face, daring her to say that she believes that he, and the others, are werewolves, yet secretly hoping she will laugh it off as a made up story.

“So…” Deryk says, frowning. She hopes that she’s not being played for a fool. The vibes in the room tell her that she’s not. She can sense her parents hovering nearby, giving her strength. “Are you like an alpha wolf, and are Isaac and Jackson your cubs? Are there more of you?”

When Derek Hale’s mouth falls open for a split second before he once more schools his features into their usual mask of scowling disapproval, Deryk gives him a bright smile. She’s thrown him for a loop, and is not too humble to crow about it a little.

“You believe?” It’s Jackson’s voice that causes her heart to skip a beat and for her to turn her equally challenging gaze from Derek to her maybe boyfriend.

Deryk crosses the room to Jackson and pulls him into a hug, because she can sense how worried he is about all of this. “Yes, I believe.”

“And, you don’t hate me?”

Deryk frowns at him. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because…” Deryk places a finger over his lips when Jackson begins to list all of his sins from before he got his true form – a story that Derek Hale has already told, in great, agonizing detail. The way that Jackson’s skin had reddened, and he’d refused to meet her eyes, told Deryk how terrible the whole experience had made him feel.

“Hush,” Deryk says, and she stands on her tiptoes, kissing Jackson on the lips. The smile, and returned confidence in Jackson thrills her heart, and drowns out the guttural growls coming from Derek and Isaac.

“So, I trust that you can see why you need a chaperone when on a date with Jackson,” Derek Hale says as though it’s a done deal.

“No,” Deryk says, turning to face the werewolf. “I trust Jackson. What’s happened in the past is in the past. I’ve lived through some pretty awful shit, myself. This doesn’t scare me.”

“Maybe you should be afraid,” Jackson whispers.

Deryk raises an eyebrow, and shakes her head; she cups Jackson’s cheek with her hands, and peering into his eyes, says, “I will never be afraid of you.”

Derek Hale’s snort almost causes her to whirl around and smack him on the arm, or maybe she should hit him on the nose with a newspaper, like people do with a misbehaving dog. Instead, she focuses on Jackson, on reassuring him that she is still very much interested in him, still very much wanting to be his heart as he stated during their date, before it was so rudely interrupted the second time.


	8. Mate, or Something Very Much Like an Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of magic afoot when you meet your soul-mate. Has Deryk met hers in Jackson?

Jackson’s heart feels like it’s going to explode, and knowing that both Isaac and Derek Hale can hear it, makes him even more nervous, and a little resentful. He’d just wanted to go on a date with the most beautiful girl he’d seen, since Lydia. Maybe he should have cleared it with Derek first, and maybe he should have agreed to a chaperone, but none of that matters now that the truth is out.

He’s ashamed of where he’s come from. He might be a werewolf now – something that he’d pushed Derek Hale into making him – but before that, he was a monster, the kind that most people hunted down and killed. He had almost died, probably should have, but, instead he lived, and he became the wolf that he’d wanted to.

Even so, Jackson knows that he’s not good enough for Deryk. Not good enough for anyone. He’s angry and exhausted and his head is reeling when he looks down at Deryk’s freckled face, and into her green eyes.

 _Trust._ That’s the first thing that he can see reflected in the depths of Deryk’s eyes.

 _Compassion._ It’s not pity, is the next thing that Jackson reads from Deryk.

 _Love._ It’s this third one which makes his heart soar, and Jackson remembers what he’d said to her earlier that night. He’d been terrified that she was going to laugh at him when he voiced aloud what it seemed that his inner wolf was saying – that Deryk Lahey was his very heart.

He’s read that wolves mate for life, and had gotten Stiles to verify that. The moment he saw Deryk, in the school cafeteria, Jackson knew that he had met his ‘mate’, and it thrilled his heart.

“Mate?” Derek voices the question aloud, and though it is quietly spoken, the way that Deryk tenses in Jackson’s arms, lets him know that it wasn’t werewolf-ears-only quiet. The alpha wolf had meant for Deryk to hear him.

“What’s he mean by that?” Deryk asks, and to her credit, she doesn’t pull away.

“Nothing,” Jackson says, shaking his head, and tucking a stubborn piece of hair behind Deryk’s ear. He can hear her heart racing, smell a hint of lavender, feel the heat rising from her cheeks, the faint shiver that rolls through her shoulders, and it’s intoxicating.

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Deryk leans back, and stares him in the eyes. He can see the flecks of gold in her green eyes, and it’s mesmerizing.

“It means that Jackson’s chosen you for his mate,” Derek Hale interrupts when Jackson opens his mouth to insist that the elder werewolf is full of crap. For that Jackson knows, in spite of his feelings to the contrary, Hale _is_ full of crap, making up something to frighten Deryk away.

“Don’t…” Jackson’s words are cut off when Deryk places an index finger on his lips. She searches his eyes and then seems to come to some sort of decision. Her heart starts to slow down to a less harried pace, and then she smiles.

“It’s okay,” Deryk whispers. “Whatever all of this is, it’s okay. I’m not going to pretend that I understand any of it, or that it doesn’t freak me out, just a little bit. Okay…a lot…but,” she squeezes Jackson’s wrist and then kisses him on the lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And, for now, that is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a companion piece that a friend wrote for this story: Derek, Meet Deryk. It is under SpaghettiTacos profile. Check it out. :-D

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Derek, meet Deryk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462657) by [SpaghettiTacos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiTacos/pseuds/SpaghettiTacos)




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